I was at my mother's, when the phone rang. I answered and the woman on the other end asked to speak to my father, who died in 1989. Answering indignantly, I said: "He's dead."
There was a pause, but the telemarketer was not willing to give up. She asked if, by chance, he had a wife she could speak with. I answered: "She's in the hospital."
I waited. Will there be another request to speak to any adult in the house? Nope. She offered a quick apology and hung up.
I was a little disappointed. I was in the mood to really mess with a telemarketer, but they were unwilling to walk into my trap.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.